


Sure of You: Thirteen Missing Scenes From the Series Finale

by speakpirate



Series: Thirteen Things [7]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakpirate/pseuds/speakpirate
Summary: Thirteen scenes to rework the finale.





	Sure of You: Thirteen Missing Scenes From the Series Finale

**Author's Note:**

> _This is an unplanned stand alone, separate from the rest of the Thirteen Things universe. Title credit to Winnie the Pooh._

I. 

“What’s going on with you and Caleb?” Spencer asks, pouring their drinks. “You guys look like you’re trying to combat global warming by kicking off a new Ice Age.”

Hanna shrugs off the Mojito and grabs a bottle of vodka by the neck. She takes a long swig.

“Remember those white leather pants I used to have? The ones we found on sale at Bloomingdales?”

“I do,” Spencer nods, taking a pull of vodka herself. “You loved those pants.”

“They were perfect. They worked with everything and they made my ass look super hot.”

She knocks back another deep swallow of liquor before she goes on.

“The summer before junior year, I was at a party at Noel’s and some no neck from the lacrosse team tipped over the drinks table. The next thing I knew, I had a tray full of red jello shots smeared all over me.”

“Bill Harris,” Spencer says. “Bridget Wu kissed him on the porch, and her boyfriend threw him across the room.”

“Not the point, Spencer.” Hanna sighs. “The thing is, I knew the pants were ruined. But I tried like a zillion ways to get the stains out. And nothing worked. Then, after they’d been like, mordoring on the floor of my closet for a year -”

“Mouldering. Or molding,” Spencer cuts in, frowning.

“Whatever, they were gross. But by then, I had enough extra cash to take them to the dry cleaner. And they did some kind of miracle treatment because the pants came back and they looked good as new.”

Hanna drinks again, looking over at Caleb as he sits by the fire with a petulant look on his face.

“I was so happy. But then, every time I tried to wear them, they chafed. Or the waistband would cut into my skin weird.”

Spencer leans a shoulder against Hanna, following her gaze. 

It’s quiet enough to hear the crickets. The splash of the vodka as Hanna puts the bottle down.

Her voice starts to break a little, tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter how much you love your pants, you know? Sometimes things don’t fit anymore and it’s shitty and there’s nothing I can do to make it better unless I want to spend the rest of my life sucking in my stomach!” 

Spencer puts an arm around Hanna’s shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” she says, smoothing Hanna’s hair. “Sometimes you grow out of things. It happens.”

Hanna wipes her nose on the collar of Spencer’s jacket. 

A masked figure in the bushes crouches down in a pensive pose.

\---------------------------------------------

II.

Emily and Alison are standing near the Radley bar. Ali has a protective arm wrapped around her girlfriend’s waist as she keeps up a whispered fashion critique of Ezra’s snobby relatives.

Pam and Veronica seem to be running interference for Ella, doing their best to distract Diane Fitzgerald from her various complaints. Their diversionary tactics at the moment include drunkenly twerking. 

“Do you see that?” Emily asks.

“They’re lucky my blackmailing days are behind me,” Alison snarks.

“No,” Emily laughs, pulling her towards the middle of the room. “I meant Mona. She’s here.”

They reach Hanna and Mona at the same time Spencer and Aria do.

“You brought her to my rehearsal dinner,” Aria exclaims. “I’m so glad! I would have invited you, but I didn’t know if -”

“If I’d be able to trade my straitjacket for a little black dress in time?” Mona smiles.

“Something like that,” Aria agrees. “I’m just - I’m glad you’re here.”

Hanna beams at her.

“We never would have been able to end the game on our own,” Spencer chimes in. “What you did for us, what it did to you - we owe you so much.”

“I’m sorry,” Alison adds. “I thought Charlotte was better. I wanted to believe that she was.”

“We were wondering,” Emily says. “My mom wants us to do the whole baptism thing for Lily and Grace. Even with Hanna and Aria and Spencer, we still need one more godparent?”

“My goodness,” Mona says, fanning herself. “A girl could get a little flushed from such a warm reception.”

Their mothers breeze by, dancing at the head of a conga line.

“Where’s your new son-in-law?” Pam asks, over her shoulder.

“Packing,” Ashley says, chugging a plastic cup of wine. “For California.”

Veronica is hiking her dress up past her knee and throwing back a flute of champagne. “I’ll draw up the divorce papers tomorrow.” She picks up a gold handled walking stick that was leaning against Diane’s chair and hands it to a couple of confused looking caterers. 

“For now, Marin - LIMBO!”

\--------------------------

III.

The loft is quiet when they finally get back. Caleb is gone. His clothes, his books, his furniture all gone as well. Hanna looks around, wondering at the fact that she doesn’t feel sadness as much as relief in the face of the empty spaces. 

“I’m so sorry,” Mona says, standing in the spot where the two white chairs used to be. “If this had anything to do with me. I wasn’t blue snarfing, I swear. But I did kind of overhear you guys arguing the other day.”

Hanna sits down heavily on the couch. “Honestly, we were fighting for months. Once the day to day danger ended, all our old problems were right there waiting for us.” 

She kicks off her heels, which clatter across the floor.

“I was tired of having to defend myself all the time,” Hanna adds. “I shouldn’t have to justify my friendships to anyone.”

“So it was about me,” Mona says, quietly. “About you taking me into your home.” She sits down on the other end of the couch, her movements a little careful. She moves like that a lot these days, as if she’s made of glass, afraid of shattering herself to pieces. It makes Hanna’s heart twist up every time.

“You were there when I needed you,” Hanna says, simply. She reaches over and squeezes Mona’s hand. “Now it’s my turn to be here for you.”

Mona takes a shaky breath as she looks at their clasped hands. 

\----------------------------------------------

IV.

“Are you sure?” Emily says, the sunlight streaming into the living room as she holds the phone to her ear. Alison is feeding the girls, making airplane noises as she tries to get them to eat some strained beets.

“Thank you,” she says, before she hangs up. “Of course. Thank you so much.”

Alison’s posture is tense as she turns around. “Do they know anything?”

Emily puts a hand gently on Alison’s back. “There’s no father.”

“What?”

“There’s no father.”

“Em, I know I’m not a biology teacher, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how this works.”

Lily spits a mouthful of beets onto the floor.

“It’s an experimental procedure. Egg banging. Mona confirmed the lab results with Leslie Stone.”

“What does this mean?”

“They’re ours. Completely and totally. They’re our daughters.”

\--------------------------------------------

V.

“Hey,” Toby says, leaning in the doorway of Spencer’s cabin at the Lost Woods Resort.

“Hey yourself,” she says, smiling.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

She welcomes him in. The room isn’t that big. She positions a chair near the bed and motions for him to sit down.

“The thing is,” Toby says, “I don’t know how you’re feeling about things.”

“What things?” Spencer asks.

“I was pretty torn up. I thought maybe, somehow, kissing you goodbye right before I left with Yvonne - that maybe it jinxed things or it was bad karma or something. And then, when you came to my cabin that night, it all happened so fast. I didn’t mean for us to jump back into bed together so fast. But now, now I think I’m ready.”

Spencer is looking at him strangely, as if he’s not speaking English and has simultaneously grown two heads.

“Toby,” she says, slowly. “What are you talking about?”

Neither of them notice as the false panel at the back of the closet swings open.

\--------------------

VI.

Melissa strolls up to the fence as Spencer brushes down a horse. Melissa’s horse.

“Bashful feeling shy today?” Melissa asks.

“He is,” Spencer says, nonchalantly.

“So you just took my mount without asking? Some things never change.”

“Don’t be like that,” Spencer tells her, brushing a little more quickly. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Melissa frowns, her eyes following the movement of her sister’s arm.

“If we’re going to try to be friends,” she says in a glacial tone, “You need to play by the rules. What’s mine is mine, little sister. That’s rule number one.”

“Fine,” Spencer says, sarcastically. “We share DNA and that’s it.” 

She tosses the reins to Melissa. “I have somewhere to be anyway.”

Melissa watches her walk away, her eyebrows furrowed together. She leans down and examines the horse’s hooves. Her frown deepens. 

She pulls out her phone.

\-------------------------------

VII.

Spencer arrives at the suite early. Aria is still in her zebra print pajamas, her wedding dress out of the bag and hanging on the back of the door.

“I have something you need to see,” Spencer declares.

“What is it?” Aria asks, curiously. 

Spencer pulls out a cell phone and starts playing a video.

Aria’s face goes white.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Spencer tells her. “I’ll stall the others. You pack up your stuff and we can be out of here in half an hour.”

Aria’s eyes are glued to the screen. “I don’t understand,” she says, faintly.

“I love you too much to let you go through with this,” Spencer replies, her voice firm and authoritative.

“You can’t marry Ezra.”

\------------------------------

VIII.

“Where’s Mona?” Emily asks as Hanna walks into Aria’s suite alone. 

Emily is sitting with an arm around Alison’s shoulders, reading the newspaper and sharing a coffee. They’re the picture of domesticity and Hanna feels a little pang of envy dart through her.

“Something came up,” Hanna shrugs. “She got a call in the middle of breakfast and she was out bed before the toast was cold.”

“You were having breakfast in bed?” Emily asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Where’s Aria?” Hanna asks, changing the subject as Spencer emerges from the bedroom.

“Last minute jitters,” Spencer explains, smoothly. “She just needs a little time alone.”

The door of the suite bangs open and Mona rushes in. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she chirps. “Fashion emergency.”

Hanna gets a concerned look on her face as Emily and Alison exchange puzzled glances.

Mona perches on the arm of the sofa next to Hanna and lays a perfectly manicured hand on her shoulder. “Miss Aria is going to look killer! She’ll finally be Ezra’s wife!” 

Hanna’s facial expression goes from concerned to confused.

“We’ve been dreaming about this day for so long,” Mona continues, looking intently in Hanna’s eyes. “From back when she loafed under trees.”

“I remember,” Hanna nods, still not sure where this is going.

Mona gets out a compact and uses her lipstick to point clearly towards Spencer, who’s standing at the window staring outside.

“Ezra’s valentine is lovely,” Mona says, deliberately. “The wedding is now.”

“Did you forget your meds this morning?” Alison asks, curiously. 

Mona doesn’t look away from Hanna’s face. Hanna shakes her head, looks over at Spencer by the window.

“What’s taking so long?” Emily asks. “Maybe I should go in and talk to her.”

“No,” Spencer insists. “I promised her twenty minutes to herself.”

Hanna casually stands up and walks over to the window, studying Spencer’s face. “You know, I’ve been thinking about opening a boutique when this is all over.”

“That’s great, Han,” Spencer says, a little distractedly.

“You’re gonna do incredible things,” Hanna tells her. “You’ll probably finish law school and then sue to reform the Electrical College?”

“Oh,” Spencer assures her. “You’ll be amazed.”

Alison turns her head sharply, her eyes narrow. She gets up to join them at the window.

“Need a fix?” Alison asks, offering her coffee to Spencer. 

“Yes, please,” Spencer answers, taking the cup and draining it. She sets it back on the table and heads towards the bedroom. “Give us five minutes,” she says, over her shoulder. 

The door closes behind her.

“That was decaf!” Alison whispers. 

“I don’t know who the hell that is,” Hanna murmurs, pointing at the closed door.

“But it’s not Spencer,” Mona declares.

“Are you crazy?” Emily hisses. “If that’s not Spencer, we can’t just leave her alone with Aria!”

They rush towards the door to the bedroom. Emily tugs frantically at the knob.

“It’s locked!” 

Mona jimmies it open with a credit card. It swings open.

The four of them stand in the doorway, stunned. The room is empty. Cleared out.

The curtain flutters in front of the open window.

Aria is gone, and whoever was wearing Spencer’s face with her.

\----------------------------------

IX.

Ezra is fastening his cuff links and whistling a jaunty tune as he examines his reflection in the mirror.

There’s a knock on the door. 

It’s not the limo driver. It’s Barry Maple and Marco Fury.

“What can I do for you?” Ezra asks blandly, completely unperturbed.

“We need you to come with us,” Maple says, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder.

“Can’t this wait?” Ezra protests. “I’m getting married in an hour! What’s this about?”

Detective Fury pulls out his cell phone. “We just received a very interesting video.”

On the screen, a car is parked in the alley behind The Brew. Addison Derringer is making out with an older guy in the backseat. Ezra’s face turns towards the camera, his neck smeared with pink lipstick marks. His hands are unbuttoning the girl’s shirt. In the bottom right hand corner, next to the timestamp, are the letters N.A.T.

“Her family is pressing charges,” Maple says. “Ezra Fitz, you’re under arrest for gross sexual imposition, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and statutory rape.”

Marco Fury slaps the cuffs on his wrists as Barry Maple reads him his rights. They haul him out to the waiting squad car, and Barry shoves him against the side of the car hard enough to bloody his nose.

“Watch your head,” he says, as he loads Ezra into the back.

\-------------------------------- 

X.

Spencer wakes up in an underground bunker. She has a vague memory of someone attacking her from behind. There’s a sharp sting in her shoulder. 

She looks around, sees Toby locked in an adjoining cell. He’s bleeding heavily from a head wound.

“Toby!” she yells. “Toby!”

“He can’t hear you,” a familiar voice cuts in. “You’ve both been out for hours.”

Jenna Marshall is sitting calmly on a bed in a third pod. “Is there a meal slot at the bottom of your door?”

“Yes,” Spencer answers. 

Jenna takes off her sunglasses and uses her cane to slide them out from under her own door. They glide effortlessly into Spencer’s cell.

“She grabbed me right off the street,” Jenna explains. “I could tell she wasn’t who she was pretending to be.”

Spencer is already crushing the glasses under her foot. They break into pieces. The most important piece being the long sharp metal one connecting the frames to the earpieces.

“Who is she?” she asks Jenna. 

“How would I know?” Jenna asks. “I couldn’t see her. But she’s pretending to be you.”

It takes Spencer thirty seconds to free herself from the cuff chaining her to the bed.

“Like with a mask?” she wonders, as she works to spring the lock on the door. It springs open easily. 

Spencer examines the locking mechanism on Toby’s cell door. It doesn’t seem like she’ll be able to pick the lock from the outside.

“Is there a lighted panel?” Jenna asks. “Try putting your hand on it.”

Spencer does as she’s told. The door slides open.

“I don’t understand,” Spencer says, staring at her hand as if she’s never seen it before.

“It’s not a mask, Jenna says, her eyes eerily green. “She smells almost exactly like you. She’s your twin.”

\--------------------------

XI.

Aria is sitting next to Spencer in the front seat of a stolen red convertible. 

“Where are we going?” she asks, shouting a little to be heard over the wind.

“West,” Spencer answers. “As far away from here as we can get.”

Aria’s phone beeps from deep inside her purse.

“Ignore it,” Spencer says.

“It could be my mom.”

“The girls will let her know what happened. She’ll understand why you needed to get away.”

Aria finds the phone and pulls it out of her bag.

Spencer grabs it from her and tosses it out of the car.

“What are you doing?” Aria exclaims.

“We’re running away,” Spencer insists. “We can’t look back.”

“Stop the car.”

Spencer slows down, but she doesn’t stop.

“Spencer,” Aria pleads. “You’re scaring me.”

Spencer stops the car. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. It’s just - when I saw that video of Ezra, I freaked out. I knew you could never marry him, and the moment I realized that…”

“What?” Aria asks.

Spencer brushes a lock of hair off Aria’s forehead.

Slowly, she leans in and kisses her.

Aria’s eyes widen in shock. She pulls away, but runs a hand tenderly across Spencer’s cheek, trails it slowly down the side of her neck.

“That was - unexpected,” Aria says.

“Was it?” Spencer asks. “Was it really?”

Aria gives her a smile that has a little bit of fear around the edges. “Just drive,” she says.

Spencer puts her foot on the gas and peels out. Aria studies the contours of her face in the rearview mirror.  
The Pennsylvania back roads are twisty and scenic. 

At the next sharp turn, Aria lunges for the wheel.

\-----------------------

XII.

Alex Drake has a bandage on her right temple and a saucy grin on her face. Despite her shackles, she’s turned the interrogation room chair so she can sit on it backwards, resting her elbows casually on the metal table.

“The resemblance is incredible,” Mona says, from the other side of the one way mirror. She stares at Alex, then at Spencer, then at Alex again.

“You think so?” the real Spencer asks. “I don’t see it.”

“Her eyeliner is way more evil,” Hanna offers, her arms folded across her chest. 

“You look alike,” Emily says. “But there’s only one Spencer.”

“Accept no substitutions,” Alison agrees, pulling everyone in for a group hug. They stand together, watching Alex Drake hum quietly to herself. 

“Thank god you guys had all the wedding guests form a search party,” Aria says, shuddering. “Holden and Nicole found us before Twincer over there came around.”

“How did you figure out she wasn’t the real Spencer?” Emily asks.

“I mean, I thought it was a little suspicious when she hustled me down the fire escape without letting me say goodbye to any of you,” Aria tells them. She blushes a little, but it’s hard to see in the dim light of the police station hallway. “But I knew for sure when she kissed me. Her lip gloss was wrong.”

“She kissed you?” Mona says. “You buried the lead on that one, girly-girl.”

The real Spencer is shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not making eye contact. “I’m sorry she did that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aria tells her, taking her hand.

“She’s an evil bitch,” Alison says. “But she saved you from a nasty divorce. It turns out Ezra still had cameras all over town. He was bankrolling the N.A.T. club with the money from his sock drawer.”

“I should have known,” Aria sighs. “It was just easier to think of it as a big romance. I never wanted to admit how sleazy it was.”

“Well, one good thing came out of it,” Mona says. “I hacked into his feed and found this.”

She pulls up a video on her cell phone. On it, Archer Dunhill reaches a bloody hand feebly out of his hastily dug grave. Slowly, he drags himself above ground, gasping for air.

A hooded figure approaches. 

“Alex,” he croaks. “Help me.”

“Nah,” Alex says, her cockney accent strong. “I don’t fancy you stickin’ around, gov’nor.” She grabs him by the throat and brutally snaps his neck.

“Mary Drake will be released tomorrow morning,” Spencer nods. “I had to lie to Marco, pretend that he was hooking up with my evil twin this whole time, but all’s well that ends well.”

“All’s fair in love and war and lost siblings,” Alison agrees.

“Speaking of love,” Hanna says. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed that humungous rock on Emily’s finger.”

“We didn’t want to upstage Aria’s wedding,” Emily explains, her face alight with happiness. 

“We’re thinking of a June wedding,” Alison adds, pulling Emily close.

“What wait?” Aria asks suddenly. “You have two kids together, and you guys have been in love with each other for years.”

“We have to plan the wedding,” Alison says. “Around baby feedings and diaper changes and three hours of sleep a night.”

“Take mine,” Aria says, earnestly. “Seriously. We’re not getting any of the deposits back anyway.”

“It’s not a cocktail dress,” Spencer says. “You don’t just lend someone a whole wedding.”

“Why not?” Emily asks. “All our friends and family are pretty much already here.”

“True,” Alison says, considering. She turns to Aria. “We called Jason when we thought you got kidnapped. Turns out he was already on his way.”

“And you can’t let that cake go to waste,” Hanna adds. “That’d be way more criminal than most of the stuff we’ve done.”

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Emily asks.

The others file out, leaving Emily and Alison alone together.

“What do you think?” Emily asks, closing the distance between them.

“We want to spend the rest of our lives together,” Alison says. “After everything we’ve been through, I’m fine with the rest of our lives starting as soon as possible.”

Emily pushes her back against the glass and kisses her. Alison kisses her back with equal intensity, opening her mouth and wrapping a hand around the back of Emily’s neck to pull her closer.

“Let’s do it,” Emily says, panting a little as they break apart. “Let’s go get married.”

\---------------------------

XIII. 

**Five Years Forward**

Six young women make their way uneasily through a darkened tunnel. A single flashlight beam does little to illuminate the musty underground space.

A blood curdling scream makes them all jump.

“There’s something on my shoe!” Hanna Marin announces. “Something sewery and old.”

“Next time, don’t wear $600 heels on the catacombs tour,” Spencer tells her.

“Next time?” Aria asks. “Next time I think we should start our Paris trip with shopping.”

“Or the Louvre,” Alison suggests. “Or Versailles.”

“Or any of the nice things to do above ground,” Emily adds.

“Don’t listen to them,” Mona says. “This place is ah-mazing. Did you see the wall of skulls back there? Tres chic!”

“You owe me a new pair of Manolos,” Hanna grumbles. “And please tell me that’s your hand, because if not something very creepy is touching me right now!”

Mona smacks Hanna playfully. “You know it was me.”

“Speaking of creepy things,” Aria says. “Alex Drake wrote to me.”

“She did?” Emily asks, horrified. “Why?”

“She wanted to apologize, I guess.”

“Shhh,.” Spencer says. “I think we’re almost there.”

“This is very Les Mis,” Aria mutters, as Hanna leads hurriedly climbs a ladder and lifts a storm grate, clambering out into the middle of a small park. Spencer holds the flashlight and motions the others to go ahead as Aria lingers behind.

“That wasn’t the only reason she wrote,” Aria tells Spencer, one hand on the ladder. “She wanted to tell me that she isn’t even queer. She just really wanted to be you.”

“It was my fault,” Spencer replies, bitterly. “I’m the reason she went after you.”

“No, she went after me because she’s a mentally unbalanced stalker,” Aria says. “But that doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”

“What?”

“She understood something about you. About us. Something I didn’t, because I was too wrapped up in trying to convince myself that Ezra was my Prince Charming.”

Spencer swallows hard. “She did. She knew secrets about me that I’d never even said out loud.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid. I was scared I’d lose you if - you didn’t feel the same.”

“Spencer, you could never lose me.” 

The flashlight falls to the ground and rolls away and Spencer kisses her for real this time.

“Get a room!” Alison’s voice calls down after a few minutes.

Sheepishly, the two of them emerge into the sunlight holding hands.

“Are they together now?” Hanna asks.

“Looks like,” Mona answers.

“About time.”

“You can’t be judgey about their PDA,” Emily says, elbowing Hanna lightly in the ribs. “Not after you two got all hot and heavy at the VMAs last year.”

“What can I say?” Mona shrugs. “I find red carpets very stimulating.”

“When are we going to see these handbags?” Alison inquires. "I promised Charlotte I would bring one back for her."

"Hers is on the house," Mona promises. "On account of me thinking I killed her. How was I to know she had an evil twin, too?"

“The boutique is right over there,” Hanna says, pointing across the street, to a small shop with the words “Maison Vandermarin” on the sign out front. 

“I could never have done it without you,” she tells Mona.

“Lucky for us,” Mona says, smooching Hanna lightly. “You didn’t have to.”

“The bags?” Alison says again. “Vogue says they’re causing an international frenzy.”

“Is it true that Lindsay Lohan pushed Kristen Stewart off a yacht to try and steal hers?” Aria asks.

“So tacky,” Mona nods. “She tried to steal Bridget Wu’s when they were in rehab together.”

“Their catfight video went viral,” Hanna adds. “But it did get everyone talking. We actually had paparazzi trying to take pictures of us setting up the displays.”

“Everyone wants to own a piece of you,” Alison says, as she links arms with Hanna and Emily. Spencer and Aria and Mona latch on as they cross the street together, their heels clacking against the cobblestones.

“And that’s immortality, my darlings.”


End file.
